


all i love so dearly

by nonbinarynino



Series: both of you [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Memory Alteration, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-28 21:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15715107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbinarynino/pseuds/nonbinarynino
Summary: "But it doesn't make anysense," Pidge says. "Whose would it be? I lost two weeks worth of memory, sure, but I still know myself enough to know that I wouldn't have gone around and let everybody from here to Earth in mypants."-Pidge wakes up in her lion with no memory of the two weeks prior. After scans show that she's pregnant, she's left trying to figure out what happened to her and how to move forward.





	all i love so dearly

**Author's Note:**

> So I got a pretty weird/dark prompt (sorry anon) and this is what came out of it.
> 
> Trigger warning for unplanned/unwanted pregnancies, blood, vomiting, mentions of rape/non-con, talk of abortion, etc.
> 
> I have no idea where on the timeline this is set? It’s some sort of AU a few years after season six. It might be best to just leave it at that. ALSO all of the science is complete bullshit. I’m not a STEM gay.

Pidge comes back to consciousness in her lion. For a brief handful of ticks, she simply sits there in her seat, looking around at Green's interior and the space that expands nearby. It truly is pretty, out here...

It takes longer than she'll later admit to realize that she doesn't  _remember_ how she got here. She doesn't remember where she's going, she doesn't remember if the other lions are deployed or not. She doesn't  _remember._ It's enough to panic anybody, so she scrambles forward to open the comm channel with the others. 

"Hello?" The channel crackles in her ear, her greeting unanswered. "This is Pidge, the green paladin. Uh... Does anybody copy? Paladins?"

There's no response for a moment, and then, " _It's Pidge_!" That's Lance's voice that comes through, loud enough to send her wincing. "Pidge, where  _are_ you?  _Guys,_ come to the bridge,  _now._ "

"I don't know," Pidge says, hands reaching out to grasp locks of her hair. "Lance, I - I don't know how I got here."

"Pidge, this is Shiro," comes in right after. "We're tracking your coordinates through the communicator. You're not that far. Can you set course for the ship?"

"Yeah," she answers, already opening up the screen to do so. She can only use her right arm due to her left one being twisted at an angle she doubts is normal, and her movements are ragged, portraying an exhaustion that hasn't yet made its way to her head. "It's not like I forgot how to operate Greenie."

"How are you feeling, Pidge?" Shiro asks. She hears a few voices whispering in the background, clearly not wanting to interrupt. "Do we need to have a sleep pod prepped? Do you have any injuries?"

"Um, I don't know," Pidge says, feeling a little lame. "I can't tell since I'm in my armor. My left arm kind of hurts, though, but it's nothing major. How - how long have I been gone?" The last sentence comes out strangled. It must have been a few hours, right? There's no way that she would be feeling as fine as she is if she was out in Greenie for more than that, with no food or water.

"What's the last thing that you remember? Your lion went off of all of our radars ... a while ago."

Pidge wracks her brain, searching for memories. The hole in her memory is so  _prominent,_ as if instead of forgetting, she had those memories taken away. It's hard, finding the last thing that she remembers, but it comes after a few ticks. She'd found Lance in the kitchen at night, and had ~~flirted~~ ~~~~chatted with him for a while before heading to bed. "Um, I remember talking to Lance in the kitchen. It was the night before our scouting mission, uh, did that happen? Did that mission fall through?"

"Pidge," Shiro says, voice soft in a way that she had not expected to hear. "That was almost two weeks ago. The mission went fine, but you decided last minute to stay with Allura. When we came back, you and your lion were gone."

 _Two weeks._ "I guess you should get a sleep pod ready for me," Pidge says, somewhat begrudgingly, "if I've been sitting in Greenie for two  _weeks._ "

"You're scheduled to arrive in fifteen doboshes," Shiro tells her, as if she couldn't have read that off of her own screen anyway. "We'll meet you when you get here."

"Mmkay," Pidge says, and that exhaustion she'd noticed in her body is coming in aggressively now. "Can I sleep? I'm tired."

"No," Shiro answers. "Pidge, keep talking, okay? You don't seem to be in the right state of mind, and if there are any injuries making it that way, I need you to be awake."

She pouts even though she knows that he can't see her. "You're mean," she tells him, half-jokingly and half-irritably. "I already  _told_ you that I'm fine. Just because my arm is twisted in a  _really_ weird angle doesn't mean that anything's wrong."

" _Pidge,_ " that's Keith, this time, and his voice is laced with something akin to concern. "I need you to open the camera on the dashboard, so that we can look at you and make sure there aren't any more injuries you're missing, okay?"

"Why does it matter?" Pidge asks, and she's aware, somewhere in the back of her mind, that she's acting like a two-year-old, but there's a disconnect between her brain and her mouth. It could be the exhaustion, or maybe the pain... "I'm going to go into a pod  _anyway._ "

"Don't make me ask again," Keith says. "I can force Hunk to do it from our end, if you'd rather." Hunk protests in the background. She can almost picture him flailing around.

"I change my mind about Shiro being mean," she says, reaching out to position the camera so that it faces her. " _You're_ mean."

"And you're in shock. I'm just trying to find out what from."

She pushes the camera button on. "I feel very weird about being on display," she says, mainly to cover up the uncomfortable silence. "Should I, like, strike a pose?"

"Pidge, your left arm is covered in blood," Shiro says, and oh, huh, it is, isn't it. "Can you look for a hole in your armor? We should determine if that blood is yours or not."

"Okay," she agrees. That sounds helpful. She inspects her left arm, careful not to move it too much. It hurts more now than it did just a few moments ago, a dull ache that seems to be ever increasing. She finds the hole in her armor at her elbow, and turning her arm gently reveals that it goes through to both sides. "I found it," she says. "It's my elbow."

"Thanks, Pidge," Shiro says, but he doesn't sound happy to have gotten this information at all. "You're almost here, okay? I don't think that you should stand, so we'll meet you in your lion."

"Okay," she says again. "I'm tired."

"I know, Pidge."

 

* * *

 

She's somewhere in between states of consciousness when Greenie lands. Her lion opens her jaws immediately, without any instruction, and even though she doesn't see anybody come in, she feels herself get picked up. She leans into the chest of whoever it is, too tired to hold herself up anymore.

"Pidge, hold  _on,_ " a voice says, and it sounds like Lance. "I will be so pissed at you if you die."

 _I'm not going to die,_ she thinks, or maybe says out loud, she's not sure.  _I'm not going to die of a broken arm._

"Yeah, you better not."

 

* * *

 

Pidge doesn't recall being helped into the healing pod, but she  _does_ remember falling out of it, heading towards the floor face first when two hands grab her and pull her close. She blinks up to see Lance, who looks  _exhausted,_ but he looks relieved to see her.

"Hey, Lancey," she says, slightly teasingly. He's lowered the both of them to the ground, positioning her in his lap so that his entire body fits around hers. He pulls off her helmet and places it next to her, gently, as if he could break it. "You look like you need sleep."

"I do," he agrees, and is he _crying?_ "Just let me hold you for a while. Please, Pidge. Before the others come."

She reaches out to touch the side of his face, wiping away the tears there. It's weird, seeing Lance cry, even though she knows that he does so frequently. Sure, they have a tendency to flirt and make each other blush, but they've never done  _this._ He's never  _begged_ to hold her with tears in his eyes. "You know something that I don't," she says. It's not a question. It's just true.

"Yeah," he confirms, voice so quiet that it's barely audible. "Yeah, I do."

"I need to know."

"I know," he says, and he just seems so _worn down_. "The others will come once I tell them that you're awake, and they'll tell you, but ... can we hold that off?" Pidge realizes, then, that he's been spending all of his time near her pod, waiting for her to wake up. His voice was the first one that came through on the comm, too, which means he must have done the same thing there. This flirting, this hint of a relationship - it means  _something_ to him. It possibly means a  _lot_ to him.

Pidge also realizes that whatever this thing is that he's not telling her is about her. It's probably going to suck, too, if he's holding it off. She wonders what it is. Maybe one of her injuries is permanent and she'll have to get an amputation? Or maybe they discovered some sort of chronic illness while she was in the sleeping pod and found out that she's going to die. "Only if you promise me that you'll sleep after," she tells him.

"Okay," he says, but something tells her that he's not going to sleep after. Even if he tries.

She tries to close her eyes and relax against him, but the pod has left her revitalized, so she ends up just looking at him. He really  _does_ look like he hasn't slept in days, and she supposes that if her injuries were bad enough in the pod, she probably was in there for at least a quintant.

"You're staring at me," he accuses, and there's a  _hint_ of amusement there, underneath all of the sad and bitter stuff. She relishes in it. "I'm just so handsome, huh?"

"Oh, totally," she agrees, a note of sarcasm in her tone, and she can almost forget that they're laying on the floor in the infirmary. "I just can't help myself. You're just  _too_ wonderful."

"Says you."

Pidge snorts. "I highly doubt that I have had the opportunity to  _shower_ in the past two movements. Once my life gets changed forever by whatever this news is, I think that's the first thing I'll do."

"You're pretty anyways," Lance tells her, as if he's informing her of the fact that stars shine. He sniffs, then. "Even if you do kind of smell like garbage."

" _Hey_!"

He smiles at her, soft and sad, and then lets out a breath. "I guess that I should call them in now."

"I guess that you should, too."

 

* * *

 

"Pidge, I know that this is hard to hear-"

"You have  _no_ idea what it's like to hear this!" she shouts, suddenly having the urge to sock Shiro across his pretty face. "It's - you're  _wrong,_ okay? There's no way that I'm-"

"Please calm down," Shiro begs. They're all in the infirmary, but Pidge has retreated against the wall, back pushed up against it as she eyes all of her paladins with distrust. Lance still has that sad puppy dog look in his eyes, but nobody besides Shiro is trying to talk to her. Keith is staring directly at the wall behind her, and Allura looks to be on the verge of tears. "We can run the test again, but we've already ran it  _four_ times, so it's going to have the same result."

"But it doesn't make any  _sense,_ " she says. "Whose would it be? I lost two weeks worth of memory, sure, but I still  _know_ myself enough to know that I wouldn't have gone around and let everybody from here to Earth in my  _pants._ "

"Nobody's saying that," Shiro says, slow. "Pidge, please, I know it's hard, but  _think_ about it. You had so many injuries."

The mere thought is enough to cut off her next protest. She chokes on air, hand planted firmly over her mouth. He uses this as an opportunity to take a step closer, but without even planning on it, she's running out of the med bay, ducking under Allura's outstretched arm and sprinting out of the door.

There's a chorus of people calling her name after her, but she runs from them all anyway. She runs until she's sure that nobody's following her, ducking through as many halls and doors as she can until she's finally alone. 

She can't go to her bedroom, because they'll look for her there later. She can't go to the bathrooms to shower, because that's what she'd told Lance she was going to do, so he'd look for her there. There's got to be somewhere,  _anywhere..._

Pidge ends up in Kaltenecker's stable, the Earth-like atmosphere giving her some degree of comfort. She spends a few minutes awkwardly standing next to her cow, before she gives up and lies down on the grass, staring up at the fake sky.

"You're my new favorite out of everybody," she tells Kaltenecker. "You don't tell me that I'm pregnant out of nowhere. You don't expect me to have a rational conversation with you about it afterwards."

Kaltenecker moos. Pidge keeps looking upwards. Her chest is heaving up and down from the sprint here, and her heart is beating fast. She doesn't know if the latter is due to the run or the sheer fear that she can't seem to shake off. Her hand is lingering over her abdomen, fingers brushing the surface of her armor, but when she realizes, she jolts away. She can't get  _used_ to the idea, because getting used to it feels like giving up on how  _messed up_ this entire situation is. There's also the fact that she's so very newly pregnant, and that there's a reason most people wait until the three month scan to tell their friends and family...

She wishes that she could go back to the way she was fifteen doboshes ago, curled up with Lance. She wishes she could go back to two movements ago, before she went missing, before the gaps in her memory started. She wishes that she could  _remember,_ even the shitty details, just so that she can know how to go forward.

God, how is she going to tell Matt? He's off with his rebel team, and she knows that if he finds out, he'll probably quit to come here. She doesn't  _want_ that. She doesn't want him to give up something he has pride in for her.

Pidge isn't sure how long she lays there, staring up into nothing, but everything comes crashing down when she hears the arrival of someone else. Without moving, her eyes flick towards the intruder. It's Hunk, who seems to have just noticed her presence. "Pidge! Hi! Er, I was just going to milk Kaltenecker. I can leave...?"

"You can stay," she tells him. "But if you talk about  _anything_ related to what just went down, I'm going to run away to the the Unilu space mall and never come back. I'll get a job there at the Terra store."

"That's fine," Hunk says, and crouches down next to Kaltenecker. Pidge isn't in the right position to see, but she hears a moo and the sound of a bucket being placed below her. "I'm going to see if I can make ice cream with this. Do you want any?"

She frowns. She  _is_ hungry. Starving. "Yes," she admits. "But I don't want to leave. I could run into somebody." 

"I can bring it back," Hunk reassures her. "I can tell the others that this area is off-limits, too. Do you want anything else when I come back with it, or...?"

It sucks, having somebody  _cater_ to her like this, when she's perfectly capable of doing it herself, but her anxiety at the thought of running into someone overcomes her pride. "I'd be fine with normal space goo," she says. "I should probably eat something nutritious if I'm..."  _eating for two._

"I gotcha," Hunk says, interpreting what she was too pained to say. "Space goo and ice cream, comin' up. Well, once I finish milking Kaltenecker, anyway. Hey, has she been mean to you too lately?"

They talk for a while before Hunk leaves to whip up some of his creations. Pidge doesn't have the energy to move. Her armor is awfully uncomfortable, and the fact that she's not wearing her helmet means that her neck is in an uncomfortable position. She wishes that she could change into her pajamas, into the clothes she'd bought at an Olkarion market that she always wears to sleep, but she's sure that  _someone_ is listening in on her quarters to see if she'll come by. Even if they heed Hunk's warning that she doesn't want to talk to anybody, they'll still  _hear_ her, and  _see_ her, and that's too much.

Hunk comes back surprisingly quickly with a bowl of ice cream of his own. "I thought you could use a buddy to eat it with," he says, smiling and extending a hand with both a bowl of ice cream and the food goo she'd requested. For the first time in what could have been doboshes or vargas, she pushes herself to a sitting position and takes the offered subtances. He settles in next to her and gets to work on his own.

Pidge chugs the food goo first. It's simple stuff, mainly tasteless, so it goes down easy. Her mother always told her to eat dessert last, though, which is a rule she has let follow her even into space. It helps, especially when the main course is more of a chore than a delicacy. She goes after the ice cream, next, which is bright orange and smells like mint.

It's... good. It tastes like sugary cereal that she used to have as a kid. "Wow," Pidge says, muffled by the melting ice cream in her mouth. "This is great! Thanks, Hunk."

"No problem," he answers, grinning under the praise. "I should make it more often. We do have a lot of milk on hand, don't we, girl?" Hunk reaches over to pat Kaltenecker on the side of her stomach, who moos.

"My favorite girl," Pidge says, and she's smiling for the first time since she found  _out_ about all of this. The mere thought of it is enough to wipe the smile off of her face.

Hunk, ever kind and ever observant, notices. He shuffles uncomfortably for a second before saying, "um, everyone is mainly asleep now, Pidge. Or at least trying to. If you want to maybe go take a shower and get some rest, now would be the time, I think."

She grinds her teeth at the fact that he's  _talking_ about it, but knows that he's probably right. She can't avoid everyone forever. Maybe her best plan is to shower, sleep, and then face everyone in the morning once she's had some time to ponder this whole thing.

"Will you come with me to grab my pajamas? You don't need to stand guard outside my shower or whatever, but... I don't know. It'd be nice to have company for the walk over."

The  _I'm scared of running into someone by myself_ is unspoken, but probably still heard. "Of course," Hunk says, always eager to help his best friend. He stacks her now-empty bowl of ice cream on top of his own, and then pushes himself to his feet. He offers a hand to Pidge, but she, almost as if she has something to prove, pulls herself up.

They walk through the ship, stopping in the kitchen to drop off their used plates, and then making their way towards the living quarters. Pidge walks slow, telling herself that it's because she doesn't want to trip in the dim light but knowing that it's due to her fear of what awaits her when she makes it to her room. It wouldn't be unlike Lance to be against the wall outside, waiting for her to come back.

He isn't, though, and Pidge is both relieved and disappointed. If he  _had_ been there, she would have just told him to leave, but having the option of him being there would have been... nice. 

She misses him. She'd seen him just a few vargas before and she misses him. Her most recent  _memory_ before the gap is of him, and she misses him. 

Hunk waits outside of her room while she gathers her sleep clothes. She takes the comfy Olkarion lounge wear and exits her room without sparing it much of a second glance. It looks exactly the same as she remembers it, cluttered and disastrous, just the way that it's always been. Hunk is still waiting outside, and offers her a wide smile when she reappears. "You can go to bed now, if you want," she tells him. "I guess everyone  _is_ sleeping, so... I'll just shower and go to bed, I guess."

"Okay, Pidge," he answers, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder but seemingly thinking better of it, letting it awkwardly dangle by his side. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? And just knock if you need me."

She smiles at his back as he leaves. She loves her friends, truly.

 

* * *

 

Pidge's arm is covered in blood from the tips of her fingers to her shoulder. It's old, more solid than liquid, and chips off into the drain. The sight is a flashback to her being in seventh grade and dyeing her hair pink. Dye had stuck to her scalp for  _weeks,_ and had chipped off like dandruff. It's not too different, now. There's blood in her hair that she hadn't noticed before, and that everybody up to this point had been too kind to comment on. The water running below her has taken on a diluted red tint, and all she can do is stare at it until it runs clear again. Her hair itself is a tangled mess, but one of the perks of having short hair is that it's easily combed out under the water.

It takes a while to scrub all of the blood off, but after a few doboshes of trying, she can see her skin underneath. There's a few scars that weren't there before. There's the one that goes through her elbow, a vertical white one across her forearm, and a puffy pink one going across her shoulder. It's weird, how unique scars can look.

She wonders how she got them. Are they from torture? Are they battle wounds? Did she fall down a cliff and hit her head and that's why she can't remember anything at all? That still doesn't make any  _sense._ Wouldn't her amnesia start there, and not in her lion in the middle of nowhere?

She  _aches_ to remember.

 _Don't think about it now,_ Pidge thinks to herself.  _You're going to have to deal with this all in the morning. You might as well have a varga or two to just ... shower. Sleep. Pretend everything's normal._

So she does.

Changing into her pajamas afterwards is like breathing a sigh of relief. There are imprints on her body from where the armor has been, red and angry. They don't hurt, but the visual of them is there all the same. She bundles up her armor in her arms, making a mental note to get her helmet from the infirmary the next day.

Pidge peeks out of the bathroom before she leaves it, making sure that there's nobody in the hallway. All of the bedroom doors are closed, and she can hear soft snoring coming from Hunk's room. She takes that as a cue to sneak towards her bedroom, afraid that if she makes a sound that someone will come and ask if she's okay.

And Pidge can't have that, oh  _no,_ because if they ask if she's okay, she'll have to say  _no,_ and then she'll cry and she might not ever stop. If no one asks, then she can keep the front up, and everything will work out the way that she needs. It'll  _work._ It has to.

When she goes into her bedroom, she immediately stills. There's her helmet, propped up on her sheets, and seemingly cleaned. As she advances on it, there's a note tucked underneath.

 _Gave it a wash so that it can be as cute as you._  
-  _Lance_  
_P.S. Whenever you need me, I'll be here._

Pidge smiles, fond, and then bites down on her lip hard to stop any sobs from coming out. She has half of a mind to go to Lance's room and curl up on his floor, to cry the way that he had earlier. She wants desperatelyto go to him, but at the same time, she's afraid of what will happen if she does. She's afraid of flinching at his touch, or yelling at him for no reason. She's  _terrified_ of fucking up whatever the two of them have going on.

She drops the rest of her armor on the floor, uncaring about where it lands. She'll need to wash the rest of it tomorrow, since there's blood ... everywhere. She moves the helmet more gently, and takes the note to put it on her bedside table. It's only then that she curls up in the sheets, hugging the blankets against her as if they could protect her from anything.

As if they could protect the _two_ of them from anything.

 

* * *

 

When Pidge goes to the kitchen the next morning, most of the crew is there. Hunk is washing dishes, Keith and Allura are calmly discussing some sort of old Altean machinery, and Lance is eating while standing up, pressed against the counter and chattering away at Hunk.

Nobody has noticed her, yet, which technically gives her time to go back into hiding, but she forces herself to stand her ground. _Face the music._ "Are you all too cool for the dining hall?" Pidge asks, hoping for a teasing tone but coming up short. Everyone turns to look at her, surprised by her presence, but she just looks at Lance. She can't pinpoint the expression on his face, but ... he seems okay. Relieved, maybe. "I mean, you're all chatting in here when poor Hunk's trying to do dishes."

"Hey, I resent that," Hunk says, and she thinks that her favorite thing about him is how _good_ he is with the emotional stuff. Especially avoiding it. "I was bored out of my mind before Lance started squirting dish soap."

Pidge heads towards Lance, and leans against the same counter. There's a good few inches between them, more so than there usually would be, but it's as close as she can see herself getting. She peers over his shoulder to look at what he's eating, but it's just space goo, so her interest quickly dissipates. "Don't squirt Hunk with dish soap," she says, after a moment's pause. 

"I had a cause," Lance says, and some tension in her shoulders drops just from the sound of his voice. "He told me that I was  _basic._ "

"You had a Starbucks  _gold card,_ dude," Hunk says, not even looking behind him from where he works on the dishes. "I'm sorry. It's just - the basic  _shone_ out at me, like rays from the sun. I was blinded by it."

"Sorry, what's a Starbucks?" Allura asks, her conversation with Keith having faded when Pidge entered the room. "Is that some sort of currency on Earth?"

"It's a coffee shop chain," Pidge explains. "They're  _everywhere._ There was one on every other street where I grew up. Matt and I would study there after school, sometimes."

"All I'm saying, Hunk, is that if it's basic to like pumpkin spice, then I'm basic as hell." Lance smiles at his own announcement, pleased, as if nobody's ever thought of that comeback before.

"I like pumpkin spice," Pidge agrees. "Everything with  _mocha_ in the title could capture my heart. Chocolate and coffee, mmm... I could die happy if I could just get one good one."

"Coffee shops are so vital to common life that there must be one in space," Keith says, and my God, is that a  _joke_? Lance must have the same thought, because the two of them share a surprised look. 

Part of Pidge relaxes at how normal all of this is. The banter, the lighthearted conversation... it's exactly what she had needed. None of them seem like they have any plans to bring up the past quintant or two, and it's for the better that way.

 

* * *

 

"How'd you guys find out?"

"It came up on your scan," Allura says. She's so gentle, like always, but Pidge is more conscious of it now. "Healing methods have to be altered for pregnant patients, since it can be too dangerous for the child, so there's an automatic setting that turns on when a pregnant person enters the pod. It turned on for you."

They're sitting in the castle library, at a table in the far back corner. Pidge had come here to read on her tablet, and Allura had some books to recommend that went over pregnancy in many different species.

"Another interesting thing came up on your scan, actually," Allura continues, when it looks as though Pidge isn't going to answer. "There were traces of healing properties in your wounds - properties that we don't have in the lions. I'm curious as to how you came across them."

Pidge just pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration. There's so much that she doesn't know, and no matter how many theories she has, she doesn't  _know_ for sure. "You all ran four tests, right? What - did they say anything about the date of conception?"

"Twelve days ago," Allura says. Pidge tries to count the time back, but it's useless. "Which I understand is very recent for Earth standards?"

"Yeah," Pidge agrees. "Most people don't know they're pregnant until after about a month. I probably won't even start to show for another three phoebs." She takes a second to pause, but a bunch of words flow out of her mouth before she can even really stop it. "It sucks, Allura," she says, as if that wasn't already abundantly clear. "I'm - I'm barely an adult. I have no idea what I'm doing. I have  _no_ idea how to save the universe and grow a baby at the same time."

Allura reaches over the table and grasps Pidge's hands in her own, firmly enough to remind her of her sincerity. "Pidge, you have  _options,_ " Allura says. "If you do not wish to go through with this pregnancy, you do not have to. Not one of us would think less of you. If you decide to continue, we will support you regardless."

Terminating the pregnancy was an option that Pidge hadn't even considered at all. "Why am I surprised that space abortions exist?" she asks herself out loud, before slumping her forehead against the table in defeat. "I - I don't know. I wish my mother were here."

"I know," Allura says, and gives her hands a squeeze. "But I trust that you will make a good decision. And  _all_ of us are here to support you in this. You are  _not_ alone."

 

* * *

 

Pidge skips dinner in favor of laying on her bed and staring at the ceiling. She seems to be doing a lot of lying down and staring lately, but it's a habit hard to kick. She has so much to  _think_ about.

She knows that she should tell Matt, and soon. But how is she even supposed to start that phone conversation?  _Hi, big brother, so let's forget about the fact that we're in the middle of a universal war right now so that I can let you in on a little secret. What's that? Oh, I'm pregnant, except I have no idea who the father is because there is a gaping hole in my memory and up until two weeks ago, I hadn't even kissed anybody yet._

What a nightmare.

She's interrupted by the sound of knocking. "Pidge? It's Lance," comes through the door. "You weren't in the mess hall for dinner, but I brought you some. Can I come in?"

She lets out an affirmative sound, too lazy to form actual syllables, and turns her head when he comes in. He's smiling, and with a wonderfully-smelling bowl in his hands. "Can I sit?" he asks, and does so at the foot of her bed once she nods. Pidge pushes herself up and takes the bowl from him. It's actual  _food_ inside, not space goo, which is endlessly relieving. It's a soup dish, and it smells better than anything she's had in  _months._

"You are my  _savior,_ " Pidge tells him, lifting the bowl up to her mouth to drink from it. Spoons are for losers anyway. "I could eat a thousand of these. Thank you."

"No problem," Lance replies, cracking her an award-winning smile. "If you're so hungry, why are you holed up in here?" At her frown, he adds, "not that you need to tell me. We can just pretend that the mess hall is a very far away land."

"I appreciate your input," Pidge says, but she's hesitating on what else to say. She's done a pretty good job at pretending she's fine and that nothing is out of the ordinary, (excluding Allura, who seems to be her new go-to for everything baby related) but it's not a ruse that can last forever. Especially not with Lance, who has grown to know her just as well as she knows herself. "I - Allura said something that I can't stop thinking about."

Lance must recognize the topic that they're approaching, because he turns to look at her more fully, leaning towards her slightly in an effort to make eye contact. "What did she say?"

Pidge frowns into her soup, and then drinks more out of it to procrastinate saying more. "She said that there were ways to end the pregnancy now," she admits, once she's finished her sip, and doesn't look up at him. "I know that that's what I should do. I know that that's for the good of Voltron. For the good of the  _universe._ "

"But you don't want to," Lance ends her thought for her, and wow, she doesn't think that she's ever heard his voice this gentle. "You want to keep it."

Pidge blinks away tears fruitlessly, and places her soup aside in fear of spilling it. Since when is she such a crybaby? "Does that make me horrible?" she asks. "To want to put a kid in the middle of all of this? To - to put the universe second, and _this_ first?"

"Oh, Pidge," he says, his voice still in that soft tone, and he opens his arms for her to crawl into. She does so with only slight hesitation, burying her face into the crook of his neck. His hands comb through her hair, ever gentle. "You're not horrible. You're so brave."

She spends a few doboshes crying into his shirt, and she's almost surprised by the lack of complaint on his part about the snot. "You do whatever you  _want_ to do," he continues. "Okay? It's up to you. If you want to keep it, then know that we'll be right here with you.  _I'll_ be right here with you."

"I'm so scared," she whispers, but pushes away so that they're eye-to-eye. Lance raises his hand and slowly wipes away tears from under her eyes, cautiously, as if to let her know that she could stop him at any time. Once he's done, his hands remain on the side of her face, warm. "I don't - I don't know what  _happened_ to me, Lance, and I know that this is so recent that I could lose her anyway, but I feel like - I feel like I  _have_ to try to see this through. So that she can be something greater than what she was made from."

"Okay," he says, his expression kind but solemn at the same time, a funny mix. "I'll be here. We'll all be here." He gently positions her head downwards and leaves a kiss on her forehead. The gesture is sweet, breathtakingly so, and the tingles of it linger on her skin even after he pulls away. There's a tick or two of silence, which Pidge uses as an opportunity to look up at him. He's staring at her, eyes warm, but when they make eye contact, he breaks out into a grin.

" _She_ , huh? It's only been a day and you've already got your mind made up?"

Pidge laughs at that, feeling the smallest bit of the constant tension in her body ebb away. "It's not really a guess," she tells him. "Just something to call her that's not  _it._ "

"I'm betting on a girl anyway," Lance says. "We need a better girl to guy ratio. You and Allura are being swarmed."

"I  _know,_ right?"

 

* * *

 

Matt is quiet when he tells her. Desperate to avoid the uncomfortable silence, she rambles on, saying how she doesn't know how it happened but that she's going to go through with it and that she's sorry for interrupting his life with this useless-

"Pidge," he says. " _Katie._ Stop."

She stops mid-word, looking at the projection of him with wide eyes. He looks ... troubled, in a way that even the pixels on the screen can't hide. He wipes at his eyes, and the mere action makes Pidge blink away her own tears. "Pidge," he says, and they both pretend that his voice doesn't crack. "I'm going to come to you, okay? I can be there for a few phoebs."

"You can't drop everything just to be here with me," she replies, shaking her head. "I can't ask you to do that."

"Unless you tell me right now that I'm not wanted, I am," Matt says, and they both know that she won't say that. "Sure, I'll have to go on some missions for the rebel fighters, but your ship can be my base for a while. Especially if I'm going to be an uncle, yeah?"

Pidge smiles at him, grateful. "Coran told me that in a month or two, we can try to figure out the species," she says. "Yeah, half-human, but ... the other 50% is basically how we find out where the hell I was for two movements."

"It doesn't matter what the other fifty percent is," Matt tells her. "Because it's half  _you,_ so it's already going to be the smartest kid on the planet."

"I'm really glad that you're my brother, Matt."

He smiles at her, and she can see that he's crying in earnest, now. Everyone's been crying so much lately, but Matt is the least surprising. He's always been in tune with his emotions in a good way, so of course he'd cry at something like this. "I'll be there in three quintants, okay? We have an assignment for tomorrow, but I'll come as soon as I can."

"Don't rush over," Pidge says. 

"You couldn't stop me."

(When he comes, three days later, she holds him close and doesn't let go.)

 

* * *

 

Lance's hands brush through her hair. "I thought you would have another few movements before morning sickness," he says, voice muffled from the toothbrush still in his mouth. He had been brushing his teeth when she had come crashing into the bathrooms, and will probably deny the fact that he screamed later when she teases him about it.

Pidge groans. "Me, too," she says. "I'm barely five weeks in, and at first I was just dealing with the constant peeing and my boobs hurting, but now I'm throwing up, too. I don't know how I'm going to do this for eight more months."

"You won't be throwing up the  _whole_ time," he tells her, getting up briefly to put his toothbrush by the sink. When he comes back, his fingers curl back into her locks of hair. "That's only for the first trimester, right? Then you'll deal with the  _real_ fun stuff, like constant nosebleeds, heartburn, and having a baby kick your bladder every three seconds."

"Joy," Pidge says, dry. She glances over at him from where she's curled around the toilet seat, and he has the _audacity_ to still look at her like she hung the stars in the sky when she's puking like this. "Have you been doing research?"

"A little," Lance admits. "But I know a lot from when Marco and his wife had the kids. I gave her foot rubs."

"You better give  _me_ foot rubs," Pidge grumbles, and then throws up again.

"Oh, Pidgey," he says, hand going from her head to rub her shoulders. "I'd give you a foot rub every day for the rest of my life if it made you smile."

"You're going to make me puke again."

"I was being  _sweet,_ you gremlin."

 

* * *

 

"Not every species is compatible with humans pertaining to reproductive systems," Coran explains. It's him, Matt, and Pidge in the lab, with the others off training. Pidge had  _begged_ to go be a part of the training, but Shiro had shut her down by reminding her of the last time she trained with them. She had left to pee three times and twice to throw up. She'd made him promise that once those symptoms calmed down a little bit, she could join in again, and she had  _not_ appreciated how he hesitated before agreeing.

Matt mostly follows her everywhere. When the two of them were growing up, Pidge had always been the annoying younger sibling who never left her brother alone, but it seems that the pregnancy has switched the tables. She doesn't mind it, for the most part, the prior distance making him close to her relieving, but it's the fact that he's always  _asking_ her what he can do that annoys her. She's not even entirely sure  _why_ it's so obnoxious, but it is.

"In the end, we narrowed it down to five other species," Coran continues. "Alteans, Balmerans, Galrans, Puigians, and the Olkari. It's almost completely positive that comparing the baby's DNA to those five species will result in an affirmative answer."

"It'd be cool if she was half Galran, like Keith!" Matt says, grinning and nudging Pidge in the shoulder. "She could join the Blade of Mormora when she got older, yeah?" The pronoun  _she_ has been adopted by the entire crew at this point, which Pidge is thankful for. Saying  _it_ sounds like they could be talking about anything from a chair to a disease.

"What if it doesn't come up positive?" Pidge asks, instead of answering her brother. "We don't just give up, do we?"

"Not at all," Coran agrees. "We can double-check against some species previously thought to be incompatible until we've double-checked every species in the book. If there isn't any result, then, well... I suppose you'll have created a species of your own!" He gives a hearty laugh at that, but Pidge doesn't find it too funny. 

Matt reaches over and squeezes her hand. "We'll figure it out," he tells her. "We always do, right?"

"Right," she confirms, but she doesn't feel that confident at all. 

Coran takes the lead in the testing, mainly because he's the most familiar with the technology. It's so _cool,_ the fact that all of the paternity testing can be done immediately and via Altean technology, as opposed to the manual style back home. He tells the both of them what he's doing whenever he does it, plugging in the needed variables and explaining how its done. Pidge follows with enraptured eyes, and part of her aches to touch the technology and fiddle with it, but a fear of messing up the results keeps her rooted in her seat, gripping Matt's hand.

"It will take a few ticks to analyze and ... here we are!" Coran exclaims. He taps on the result. It's all in Altean, so Pidge doesn't understand it, but something makes Coran frown. "Well, that's odd," he says. 

Panic grips Pidge to her seat. "Nothing came up. I'm having the baby of an old eldritch god and nothing is going to-"

"Do you  _hear_ yourself?" Matt whispers, rubbing soothing circles into her hand. In the back of her brain, she recognizes him as being an excellent brother, dealing with her like this. "Pidge, it'll all be okay."

"No, no, we got results!" Coran says, twiddling his mustache with his fingers. "They weren't the results that I expected, but they are results nonetheless. Pidge, you are having a baby that is a hundred percent human."

" _Huh?_ " Pidge asks. "Sorry, did I hear you right? How is that even possible? There - all of the humans in space are on this  _ship,_ right?"

"That we know of," Coran replies, but something in her question seems to have given him a realization, because he stands, rigid. "I have something to discuss with Allura that may, er, relate to that. Good day."

And then he's gone.

"I'm so confused," Pidge says.

"Maybe you were part of some experiment," Matt answers. "Maybe they wanted to test out asexual reproduction. Maybe there will be a mini Pidge."

"Maybe," she agrees, and that doesn't seem so bad. "I wasn't that bad of a kid to raise, right?"

He laughs at her.

 

* * *

 

She and Matt end up in the lounge, which is where the rest of the crew finds them later. Lance slouches down right next to her, patting his lap for her lay her head, and she immediately obliges, sticking out her feet so that they end up on Matt. Matt who looks at her, and then at Lance, and then back down at her. He looks torn between deciding to be the protective older brother or the teasing older brother, but she glares at him in a way that hopefully suggests  _please not right now._ The others end up on either the other side of Lance or Matt, all heavily breathing after the intense session.

Hunk speaks before any teasing or threatening can occur. "How'd the DNA testing go?" he asks. "Did you find out the species?"

"Yeah," Pidge says, and even though she had been kind of freaking out just a varga ago, she feels like being snarky now. "You'll never guess."

"Galran?" Hunk asks. "No, wait, that would have been my  _first_ guess, so it wouldn't have been Galran. Uh... Olkari?"

"Altean?" Allura asks, a spark of something hopeful in her eyes. Pidge supposes that it makes sense. If  _her_ entire species was eliminated, she'd sure want there to be more of them on the way.

"Nope," Pidge says, popping the  _p._ "Want me to tell you?"

"Yes," everybody says, at the exact moment that Hunk says "no." At the looks of bemusement, he gawks. "What! I was trying to guess!"

She makes the mistake of looking up at Lance. He's looking down at her, with this  _stupid_ expression on his face, as though he cannot possibly wait any longer for the next thing to come out of her mouth. She doubts that it even really matters to him that much at all what she says next, because she's talking about something that's half  _her._

"Human," she says, and even though it's meant for everybody, she keeps staring at Lance. His eyebrows raise slightly, and his mouth breaks out into a beam. "She's 100% human. I have no idea how it's even  _possible,_ but Matt was thinking maybe some sort of asexual reproduction experiment? I can't really think of anything else that makes sense." 

Matt reaches over to put his hand on her stomach, even though there's no bump there yet. "A mini Pidge," he says, for the second time that day, before he withdraws his hand back to his side.

"A mini Pidge," she agrees. "Is it horrible that I'm kind of glad? Some of the other species are... _large._ And I'm barely five feet. That would _suck._ " She remembers, then, what had happened earlier with Coran storming out. She turns to look at Allura, who seems to be thinking deeply. "Actually, Allura, Coran had a theory and said that he was going to talk to you about it. I'm guessing he didn't reach you?"

"No," Allura says, carefully, as if she's choosing her words with as much precision as possible. "Though, I think I know what he was going to speak to me about. It... may be a theory to where you were."

Pidge props herself up to look at her more closely, her forearms leaning on Lance's thighs. "Well, please, go ahead."

Allura hesitates for a moment before continuing. "Humans are objectively the least known about species in this section of space. Zarkon and Honerva had... ideas. Plans. They were left behind, and the plans still exist on the Castle somewhere. They wanted to obtain a human and-" she looks, briefly, as though she cannot continue, which leaves a weird feeling in Pidge's chest.

"And what?" she asks.

"And, for lack of a better term, breed the human. They wanted to watch the offspring grow and document it as it grew up, keeping it in captivity for the remainder of its life. The plans detailed brainwashing measures in order to retain loyalty to the Empire and... leverage in the case of overtaking Earth."

A lightbulb goes off in Pidge's head. "So - I would have been in a Galran base?"

"If that theory were true, which it very well might not be," Allura says. "It could be nothing, considering that we have almost _nothing_ to go off of and these are plans from ten  _thousand_ years ago. But it's a theory."

"Allura," Pidge whispers, adjusting herself so that her head is back properly in Lance's lap. His right hand finds its way to intertwine with her own, while the other brushes hair out of her eyes. "I think you're a genius."

 

* * *

 

"What am I looking at?" Lance asks. Pidge has him cornered, a gaming controller still in his hand as she outstretches another object to him.

"It's a cotton swab," she says, rolling her eyes at the obvious question.

"Well,  _duh,_ " Lance replies, rolling his eyes right back. "What I meant was why are you  _pointing_ it at me like you're about to shove it up my nostril?"

"I wouldn't," Pidge answers, though she's laughing at the mere thought. "Allura gave me an idea that night last week in the lounge. I've been doing testing ever since to see if it was even  _possible,_ but I think it is. Will you smear that alongside the inside of your cheek, please?"

"Why are you drug testing me?" Lance asks, though he does it anyway. He gives her the cotton swab back. "Does the space goo have cocaine in it or something? Are we all addicted now?"

"No," Pidge says, even though she knows that he's only asking to be funny anyway. "I'm doing this to everybody, you're just the first. I ... we were all captured by Galrans before, remember?"

"Yes," Lance says. "I remember. Which time are we talking about?"

"Doesn't matter, really," she replies. "I - I'm wondering if there were any DNA samples taken from us. All of us."

 _That's_ when he gets it, jaw dropping as his mouth gapes wide open. "You think that I - or  _any_ of us, could be...?"

"Maybe," Pidge says. "I was wondering about how possible it was, because it's not like any of you guys would have whacked one out in a Galra base, but -" She cuts off when Lance chokes on air, but continues at his thumbs-up. "But there _was_ that time where we all got knocked out with that sleeping gas when Hunk pulled that lever, remember? Or the other time when Keith accidentally gave away our location by setting off that timer, and we all got our asses kicked."

"It's possible," Lance agrees. "I'm not even going to say that it's unlikely, knowing how weird things are in space out here. Just - let me know, okay? I want to do what I can."

Though the gesture is not surprising, or even a new one, it fills Pidge with this feeling of  _admiration._ She leans up to her toes and presses a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, Lance," she whispers, and then shrieks when his game controller clatters to the floor.

"I'm sorry!" he says, reaching down to pick it up. "I just - I wasn't expecting that. Do you want to do a redo?"

Pidge beams at him, all love, and leaves him there.

 

* * *

 

She finds Hunk in the training room, fighting off bots by himself. It's nice, seeing him excel at something like this, especially when he  _does_ tend to blend into the background, unnoticed in favor of Shiro or Keith. Guilt bubbles at the surface of the mere thought of it all.

She watches him fight off the bots silently, sure that he doesn't even know she's there. Once he finishes off the round, though, she calls for him. "Hunk! Don't start another round up yet!"

He jerks at the unexpected intrusion and looks at her, grinning sheepishly. "Hey, Pidge! You want to train with me?"

"Nah, not right now, but hold onto that offer for later," she answers, heading down towards him. "Can I swab the inside of your cheek?"

Hunk blinks in surprise. "Uh... sure! Why?"

She tells him the gist of what she had just told Lance while she swabs the inside of Hunk's cheek for him. At the end of the entire explanation, even though Hunk looks a shade paler, he just grins at her, not even going to mention the whole "possibly being the biological father of the baby growing inside of Pidge" thing. "I'm not sure I feel comfortable giving you my DNA, Pidge. What if you make an evil clone of me?"

"I totally could," Pidge agrees. "But I think evil clone is more up Shiro's alley. Well, I have to go back to the lab to catalog this. Don't want these getting mixed up, right? Thanks for your cheek cells, Hunk!"

"No problem!"

 

* * *

 

She doesn't even mean to find Shiro, but catches him on her way back from the lab. She grabs him by the arm, too determined to feel bad about the abruptness of the gesture. "Shiro! I need your spit!"

He looks at her in confusion for a second before recognition comes over his features, smiling. "Sorry, Hunk already stole your thunder. You need me to do a cheek swab?"

"Oh - dammit, Hunk," Pidge responds, though she finds it hard to actually be upset. "Well, yeah. Here's a cotton swab. I'm assuming you've been drug tested at some point during the Garrison process and know what to do."

"Yeah," Shiro agrees, and takes the cotton swab into his own hand. After he smears it against his cheek and takes it out, he hesitates before giving it back to Pidge. "It's not technically spit, but I'm assuming you knew that and just felt like shouting about saliva." Pidge shrugs in a way that says _you caught me,_ but he still has that look of hesitation on his features. "You know, my sister's a lesbian."

The unexpectedness of the comment is enough to send Pidge back a step, but she recovers easily enough. "Oh, cool!"

"She got married the year before Kerberos. She's older than me - four or five years. They wanted kids and decided to each carry one. I was the donor for the one her wife carried. A boy. Daichi. I was so proud to be his uncle, and I still am." Shiro puts his hand on her shoulder, and though she can't move much in fear of damaging the sample in her hands, she smiles back up at him. "What I'm trying to say, Pidge, is that your kid is going to have six great uncles and an amazing aunt who will always look out for her. Well,  _five_ uncles. I don't think I should refer to Lance as any sort of brother figure to you."

Pidge lets out a startled laugh, half-gasp and half-giggle. "Oh my -  _Shiro_!"

"You'll work it out with him," he says, the skin around his eyes crinkled with mirth. "Everything's going to work out. Even when everything's chaotic and crazy, we'll all be here. We're a team. We're a  _family._ "

"A family," Pidge agrees. "God, can you imagine the shenanigans that Coran will get her into?"

Shiro's laugh tells her that he very much can.

 

* * *

 

Keith looks at Pidge, cotton swab in hand, and throws his head back with a groan. He's in the middle of a discussion with Matt, one that seems to be going rather negatively when she comes up. " _Pidge,_ " Keith huffs, rubbing his hands over his face. "I'm half-Galran! She's fully human! Why do I need to be swabbed?"

"Oh, you say that like it's such an inconvenience," she says, not phased by the fact that he already knows what she's planning. "I just need a little sample! A little cheek DNA! It'll take two ticks!"

"What happens if they all come out negative?" Keith challenges, shooting her a glare that she only knows is harmless from experience.

Pidge cringes. "Er, then I run Matt's and pray to every god out there that it comes out negative. And then, I'd give up. If this test I'm trying today comes out  _positive,_ though - it'll answer almost every question about the weird memory loss! I, for one, think that non-consensual insemination is slightly preferable to the alternative, don't  _you_?"

"Er, not to interrupt your stroke of genius, Pidge, but why  _do_ you want Keith's DNA?" Matt asks, desperate to clear the rapidly growing uncomfortable atmosphere. "Isn't it kind of... redundant?"

"Well, maybe it's like being a wizard in Harry Potter!" she says, proud of herself for the comparison. "Wizards can have kids that have no magic powers at all! A squib, right? Maybe being Galran is the same way."

" _Pidge,_ " Keith says again. "Being Galran is not like being a wizard! Harry Potter is the  _oldest_ piece of media, anyway, how do you even-"

"You and I both know that's not how genealogy works," Matt tells her, but he sounds thoroughly endeared. "Wanna tell us the real reason?"

Slightly embarrassed, Pidge pouts. "It doesn't really matter whose baby it is," she says. "Hell, I'm only doing this testing off of a whim, even though she being one of you guys's  _does_ make a lot of sense. But - look, Keith, I wish I could say that I was badass enough to figure out how to raise a kid and save the universe by myself. Which, let's be honest for the first and maybe even the last time, there's a chance that she won't carry to term. The first trimester still isn't even half over. But - if she does? I'm going to need all of you. I'm sorry, because I  _know_ nobody asked for this, but I will. And since you're going to be just as thrown into the middle of this as the rest of us,  _I'm_ going to DNA test you.  _Please._ "

Keith doesn't say anything for a little, but he does walk over to her. "How do I do it?" he asks, eyes darting between her and the cotton swab. Behind him, Matt gives her a thumbs up.

"I can do it for you," Pidge says, and leans up on her tip toes to do so. Keith opens his mouth a ridiculous amount, but she bites her lip to stop herself from laughing as she swipes it across the inside of his cheek. "Thanks, Keith."

Instead of walking back to his prior position like she expects, he hugs her, arms wrapping tightly across her upper back. He does so with such urgency that Pidge suddenly wonders if he's wanted to do it this ever since they found out that she's pregnant, but has been too nervous. "No problem, Pidge," he says, voice barely above a whisper.

Pidge pulls away from him and gives him a look that hopefully portrays some sort of gratefulness. "Alright, well,  _someone's_ sitting on my bladder, so I gotta go, but thanks for the sample!"

When she leaves, she hears Matt's voice, barely audible through the walls. "Jeez, I think  _I'm_ crying more often than she is."

 

* * *

 

**TEST LABELED 'FIND-THE-BABY-DADDY' BOOTING UP...**

**WOULD YOU LIKE TO ADD A SAMPLE?** [ **YES** /NO]

**SAMPLE "CUTE CUBAN LOSER" ADDED.**

**WOULD YOU LIKE TO ADD A SAMPLE?** [ **YES** /NO]

**SAMPLE "EMO GALRAN BOY" ADDED.**

**WOULD YOU LIKE TO ADD A SAMPLE?** [ **YES** /NO]

**SAMPLE "THE BEST PALADIN" ADDED.**

**WOULD YOU LIKE TO ADD A SAMPLE?** [ **YES** /NO]

**SAMPLE "SPACE DAD SHIRO" ADDED.**

**WOULD YOU LIKE TO ADD A SAMPLE?** [YES/ **NO** ]

**ANALYZING SAMPLES...**

**MERGED OR INDIVIDUAL RESULTS?** [1/2]

Pidge hesitates at the last one.  _If_ the test is positive, there are advantages to having individual results. She can find out which one of her friends to interrogate for family medical history. She  _knows_ that she'll be curious anyway, so it'll set a burning question at rest...

But does it  _matter_? She's going to find out anyway, unless the baby somehow comes out looking exactly like her. What's the advantage to finding out now, and telling one of her friends, probably very awkwardly, that their DNA is currently helping to grow a baby inside her? Why does any of it  _matter_? They're all going to be the same sort of uncle figure, as Shiro had put it, so who even  _cares_?

 **MERGED OR INDIVIDUAL RESULTS?** [ **1** /2]

**MERGED RESULTS PREPARING...**

**RESULTS POSITIVE. MORE INFORMATION?** [YES/ **NO** ]

Pidge shuts off the system.

 

* * *

 

Pidge feels  _fantastic_ when she wakes up the next morning. She doesn't have a persistent need to pee, she doesn't feel like puking,  _and_ her boobs don't even hurt that much! She's quite hungry, actually, which is a feeling she relishes in - lately she's been so nauseous that indulging herself in good food has been a rarity. The fact that the thought of  _food_ doesn't send her stomach into spirals is so promising that she stumbles through changing out of her pajamas in excitement.

It must be the first time in weeks that she's made it to breakfast with the others, if the surprised look on Hunk's face is any indication. "Pidge! You're awake earlier than noon! That's surprising. Sit, I made omelets!"

Pidge squints, sliding into the seat in between Lance and Matt. They must have saved it especially for her, and the idea of them doing that every day even though she's never up on time is horrendously comforting.  "Where'd you get the eggs?" she asks, highly suspicious.

"Don't tell her," Matt says, somewhere in between pleading and demanding. "This is the first time she's willingly eaten something in three quintants. I had to force space goo down her throat yesterday."

Hunk slides the omelet in front of her. It looks good, and it  _smells_ even better, so Pidge dives in. "I don't care," she decides. "I don't want to know, and I don't care anymore. I'm too hungry."

"Atta girl," Lance says, barely audible over his own food. "It's nice seeing you eat again."

"I have to agree," Allura says, and there's something _eager_ in her voice that makes Pidge look up at her. "Is it perhaps the results of your testing yesterday that put you in such a good mood...?"

 _Oh._ Everyone's looking at her now. Keith is pretending not to care, and Shiro has his hands folded together in an attempt to be polite, but they're all very much dying to know about her results yesterday. She would be too, of course, but it's funny to see them act.

"Not really," Pidge says, shrugging, stabbing the eggs with her fork. "I mean, the results were fine, but I'm actually just really hungry, you know?"

Matt lets out a delighted laugh at the realization of what she's doing, at the same time that everybody else scrambles for more information. "What do you mean, they were  _fine_?" Lance asks. "Does that mean they were positive?"

"Yeah, they were," Pidge confirms through a mouthful of omelet. "Oh, by the way, Hunk, this is delicious. Props to you."

"Thanks, Pidge," Hunk says, always willing to go along with her bullshit. "I worked really hard to get the seasoning right! Did you notice the hint of-"

" _Wait,_ " Allura says. "Pidge, they were? That's wonderful! Would you like to share, um, which sample was positive?"

Pidge swallows her omelet and looks Allura straight in the eye, smiling. "Oh, I actually just merged all the results together. Figured that it didn't really matter, you know? We'll find out in eight months and - who cares? They're all going to be in her life anyway, whether they like it or not." She glances over at Keith during that last part, but he smiles at her regardless of her implication.

Matt leans over to ruffle her hair. "That's my sister," he says, voice proud. She smiles at him in appreciation.

"There is one more matter," Allura says, the disappointment at not knowing who the biological father is already dissipated. "We received a transmission this morning from the planet Puig. They... asked after you."

Pidge frowns. "They asked after  _me_? Why?"

"Pidge," Allura says, gentle, "they said that you came to them. A phoeb ago."

 

* * *

 

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Lance asks. They're in his bedroom, Killbot Phantasm II on the screen and a controller in both of their hands.

"What? Advance to level twenty-six? Duh-"

"Wh-no! Not that!" Lance reaches over to her controller and pauses the game, her having been player one. "Not the game. You. Puig. Are you sure you want to go?"

The question is so out of the blue that Pidge merely blinks at him for a second, not computing. She can only see him in the dim light from the television screen, but it takes her a while to realize that she must be expected to  _answer_ him, and not just stare at him. "Well, yeah. I need to know whatever it is that they do."

"I just-" Lance huffs, whatever he's trying to say clearly not coming naturally to him. "I worry. I don't want you to find out something that could, I don't know, hurt you really bad. I mean - when we thought it was just the Galran stuff, I figured either a brain injury, or some sort of tactic so that you wouldn't remember how to find them, but if you were in  _Puig_ afterwards, the friendliest frickin' planet? What if you don't remember for a reason?"

Pidge scrunches her nose up, confused. "I'm not following," she confesses. "Do you think that I could not only find out what happened, but remember again?"

"Maybe!" Lance confirms, and he looks so  _stressed_ that Pidge reaches out to touch him, her fingers brushing against his cheek. He leans into it. Before, their relationship had been flirty in an almost teasingly way, though it had been getting more frequent by the end of it. Now, it's as though they've gone from flirting to being the type of relationship that involves crying, cuddling, and more. It was something that Pidge had always assumed would be the outcome, to be completely honest, but the pacing of it all had been a surprise. Especially since they haven't even  _talked_ about it yet. "Memories are weird like that. I just - I worry for the both of you."

It takes Pidge an embarrassingly long second to realize who the word  _both_ is referring to, but when she does, she feels herself turn pink. "Lance, I know it's going to be hard, and maybe scary, and I might cry in either a totally-justified way or a hormonal-pregnant-lady way." He snorts a laugh and looks at her, eyes soft with something that she can't pinpoint. "But I know that if things get scary, I'll have  _you._ And Matt, and the others. Plus, think about it this way - what if something  _really_ cool happened? What if I have superpowers or something, and this is the only way we'll ever find out?"

Lance smiles at the sudden change of tone. "Well, then I guess we  _have_ to go." He pauses, then, and it takes Pidge a while to realize that they're both just staring at each other. She wonders if she's imagining the extra color in his cheeks when he says, "I just have one more question."

"Yeah?" Her response is a whisper, as if she's afraid that speaking too loud will break whatever this moment has turned into.

"When are you going to kiss me, Pidge?"

She should know by now that he has a tendency to ask her things that leave her astonished, but the question still manages to knock the breath out of her. "I didn't know if you still wanted me to," she admits after a moment, finally breaking the eye contact in favor of looking down at the floor. "Considering the fact that I'm about to get very big and emotional and will be a mom at the age of, like, nineteen."

"Of course I still want you to," he says, and he places his hand on top of the one she has laying on his cheek. "Pidge, I don't mind about any of that, you know?  _You're_ what I want. Look, we're young, and it's  _terrifying._ I will be the first to admit that being paladins an astronomical distance away from home is terrifying. Bringing a kid into that is even scarier. But I want to  _be_ there. I want that more than anything."

She kisses him.

It's awkward, and she ends up having to get onto her knees to even reach his mouth. She hasn't kissed anyone before and she  _knows_ that it shows, but he's kissing her back, so there must be something worth sticking around for.

When they break apart, their foreheads still touch. "I've been," Lance starts, and then stops. "I've been waiting a really long time for you to do that." He leans back in, and this time goes slightly better, her hand moving from his cheek to his shoulder and taking his own hand with it. Kissing Lance is a lot like flirting with him, it turns out - teasingly, but not without some gravity underneath it.

Pidge loses track of time, embarrassingly enough, but ends up being the one to break the third or fourth or fifteenth kiss. She'd stopped counting a while ago. "It's late," she whispers, even though there's no one around to overhear them.

"It is," he agrees, though the disappointment is evident in his voice. He brushes his fingers over her lips and cheeks and hair, doing with his hands what he can't do with his lips anymore. "Want me to walk you to your room, Your Majesty?"

She quirks a smile at him, using his shoulders to pull herself to her feet. "You're a sap." 

He takes it as a yes and follows her to his feet, immediately intertwining their fingers. "Come on! It's a very long and cold journey."

"It's  _three steps-_ "

"Shush."

She does end up  _shush_ ing, if not only because everyone else in the hall is sleeping. He walks way too slow to be a normal pace, and the thought of it being just to spend more time with her is a nice one. Regardless of the leisurely pace, they end up in front of her door in just a few ticks,

"I guess this is goodnight," Pidge whispers, reaching out to take his other hand so that she's holding both of them, face-to-face with Lance. "See you tomorrow?"

"As if you could avoid me," he says, and leans down for another kiss. She reckons that she's getting better at it, even if it's still overwhelmingly new. "Goodnight, Pidge."

"'Night, Lance."

She buries her face into her hands the second that she goes into her room, feeling how hot her cheeks are. Being with Lance both feels terribly recent and forever ongoing. It's as though the two of them have been together for a long time, even though tonight was the first time that they had actually  _talked_ about it. Or kissed about it.

There's a chance that it could all fall through. Everything has changed, all at once, and it could crumble just as quickly.

Pidge, though? She has a feeling that it won't. She has a feeling that things are actually going to turn out okay.

Sleep comes easy.

 

* * *

 

There's a crowd of Puigians already waiting by the landing site when Greenie and the Black Lion land on Puig. They all look ... excited, and it's not difficult to notice that they all seem to be gathering around the Green Lion.  _Wow,_ Pidge thinks.  _I really must have_   _come here._

She waits for the Black Lion's jaws to open before descending down her own lion. Stepping on Puig's soil is familiar, even though the last time she remembers coming here is a few years back. Without even the opportunity to say hello to the crowd, one of them runs forward and grips her into a hug. Once they pull back, it's revealed to be an older Puigian, with light pink facial marks and a grin that could battle Lance's.

"It is good to see you again," the Puigian says. "I suppose you do not remember me. I am Lysel. You were here a phoeb ago."

"Or so I've heard," Pidge agrees, noting Keith coming towards them out of the corner of her eye. He raises an eyebrow, but all she can do is shrug at him. "I, er, I thank you for any part you played in getting me home safely."

"We did nothing," Lysel says. "We gave you a place to recover from your wounds. Is the child okay?" She surprises Pidge by placing a hand on her abdomen, over the armor. Keith reaches a hand to his bayard at the gesture, something so ridiculous that Pidge can only glare at him.

"I guess the cat's out of the bag, huh?" she says to the Puigian in front of her, her walls of defensiveness dropping down. "She's okay. How did you know that I wouldn't remember you?"

"Oh, because I took your memory," she says, nonchalant. Pidge jerks her head back in surprise. "Did you not find the video that you left yourself to find?"

"Er... no?"

"Come with me," Lysel instructs. "I can give you and your companion food and drink. Are you hungry, son?"

"I would be grateful to receive anything that you're willing to share," Keith says, having become more diplomatic after a few scoldings from Allura. He looks confused at the woman's statement, though, and seems to believe that they're falling into some sort of trap.

Pidge knows better, though. The Puigians have been out of Galran control for years, and any sort of resistance from them would be highly unlikely. Plus, maybe it's just her imagination, but she likes to think that Lysel had genuine concern in her eyes for the baby.

Lysel takes them to a small building, one that must be her own home. There's something similar to a couch and a chair, a wood stove, and an open door that leads to a bedroom. She wordlessly gestures to the couch, where Pidge and Keith sit side by side. "Would either of you like a drink? There is a drink that we commonly give to visitors -  _disberr,_ in our language."

"I would love to," Pidge says, and then pauses. "Well, with all due respect, is it safe for the baby?"

"Oh, of course!" Lysel says, busying herself over the stove. "We do have a  _spicy_ version, but I wouldn't give that to a mother-to-be."

The drink itself is a close relative of tea, if not sweeter than any Pidge has ever had. It's... good, even though the amount of sugar surprises her. "Thank you for your gift, Lysel," she says. "I was wondering if you could tell us about what happened when I was here the first time."

"Of course," the Puigian says again, settling down into the stone chair next to them. "You landed here by yourself, in the dead of night. You were gravely injured and unconscious. Later, when you woke, you said that you suspected your lion had landed here on her own accord, to help you."

That makes enough sense. It's surprising but not unheard of for the lions to do things in the best interests of their pilots, even if the pilots don't know it. Like Greenie opening her jaws when she came back home.

"We cared for your wounds to the best of our ability, but it took you four quintants to awaken. You told us of the child when you woke up, but we did not have the proper technology to clarify its safety for you. So you left."

"I don't understand," Keith interrupts, with the voice of someone not willing to believe just yet. "If you healed her, why was she so banged up when she came home?"

Lysel closes her eyes. "We saw the Galrans come for you. There was four of them against you. We watched from below as you fought them. You took them all out, but... we saw the lion get hit. Many times."

"That makes sense," Pidge says. "The injuries on my arm could have been there before and just reopened then."

"But what about the  _memories_?" Keith asks. "You said you took them - when? Why?"

Lysel, surprisingly, starts to cry. It's so sudden that Pidge and Keith just _look_ at each other, not sure how to proceed. "There was a mistake. You spent much of your time in our medical building, of which there's a laboratory section. We were working on a chemical to help Voltron in times of war - a memory altering substance, in case it would be needed against the enemy. You wanted to help us, and offered to test a knockout chemical, but... you were given the wrong one. You still retained your memory when you left us, though."

Pidge closes her eyes, as if it will in some way help her process Lysel's words. "What's this video that you mentioned?"

Lysel smiles through the tears. "You had the idea to leave yourself a video log on your lion. I suppose that it was perhaps never created, due to the fight against the Galrans. Have you looked?"

"I haven't." Pidge pauses, then, knowing that she won't be able to get much more from this conversation. "Thank you for your help, Lysel."

 

* * *

 

The Pidge on the screen looks clean. She's filming it in Greenie, but everything looks the way that it does now, clean and normal. "Hey, Pidge," she says, and then visibly cringes. "Oh, that sounds totally weird to say. It's like I'm talking to myself but I'm also talking to you - us? I'm talking to us?"

Virtual Pidge shuffles and looks everywhere from the camera. "So... I'm going to lose a bit of my memory soon. I'm trying to get back to the castle before it happens. Lysel - a Puigian, sorry - said that it would happen within the next few vargas. She  _sobbed,_ she felt so bad. She said that the chemical I accidentally ingested would only go back a few quintants and that the memories would come back after a few phoebs, but that it was still experimental. They don't know that much."

Pidge huffs and looks off-screen. "Here's what you need to know. I'm hoping that you'll look at this as soon as you can. I was taken by the Galra. I don't know the coordinates of the base that I was at, but frankly, it doesn't matter because I blew it to pieces. They ... conducted experiments on me. On us. To find out more about the Earthlings or whatever. They used the DNA from one of the other paladins, I don't know who, and - I...  _we're_ pregnant, and I really hope that you find out from this and not a few months down the road when your belly starts growing."

"I think that it'll be okay," Pidge continues. "I do. I don't know why, but I have a feeling-" she cuts off and looks up. The sound of gunfire fills the speakers, almost too loud to compute through the microphone. "Oh, quiznak. I gotta go. Bye, Pidge!" The video ends there, abrupt.

The Pidge watching buries her face in her hands. Seeing this upon her return back to the castle would have made everything a lot simpler. How had she not checked _Greenie_ for more information? She supposes that she's only really been in Greenie a few times since, but still. She feels like an idiot.

 

* * *

 

Lance starts sleeping in her room. After a week or so of altering positions and whatnot, they have a system down. She sleeps on the outside so that when she gets up to pee in the middle of the night, which is pretty much a nightly occurrence nowadays, he doesn't wake up. It works, and she quite likes having him there next to her. She usually goes to bed before him, but he's always still sleeping when she wakes up. 

The entire relationship has been quite... abrupt. They'd been flirting and teasing for  _months,_ but it hasn't even been two weeks since their first kiss. Pidge supposes that circumstances like war and babies can speed things up quite a bit.

They're laying in bed at night, side by side. Neither are really talking, and Pidge just watches as Lance lazily plays with her fingers. It's dangerously domestic, and she figures that she could spend the rest of her life doing this every night. "Lance," she whispers, barely audible even to her own ears. He looks up at her, eyebrows raised, as if waiting with bated breath to see what she could possibly want to say. It's stupidly endearing how he always seems to hang off of her every word, even when it's just for little things like this. "Can I say something crazy?"

"Sure. I love crazy." He doesn't seem very phased, and she wonders if he will be.

Pidge speaks before she can change her mind. "I want you to be her dad."

Lance blinks. "You mean, like, biologically? 'Cause that'd be cool-"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "I mean - look. There's a pretty big chance that she's gonna come out with Hunk or Shiro's genes, and that's fine, I don't care about that. I don't want you to be her father, I want you to be her  _dad._ " He doesn't respond for a moment, and she cringes. "I'm sorry, that was way too-"

"Can I talk to her?" he asks, and he scoots so that he's on his side, propped up by his hand. 

"What?"

"My new daughter," Lance clarifies, and he sounds  _so_ pleased about it. She had almost forgotten what a family man he is - of _course_ he wouldn't ridicule her for this. "Can I talk to her?"

"The more we call her a girl, the bigger chance there will be that she's a boy," she replies, smiling. "Not that it matters. Sure. Talk to her."

He sits up fully then, and then leans back down to press his lips against her belly. She's just hit the eight week pregnant mark, so she still doesn't have any sort of bump there. Lance, who is rubbing her stomach like a genie lamp, doesn't seem to think that it matters. "Hello, Little Pidge," he says, and the vibrations from his voice tickle against her skin. Pidge watches as he turns to press his ear against her belly button, and then frowns. "She's not answering me!"

" _She_ is the size of a raspberry," Pidge tells him. "She doesn't speak English!"

"Your mother must be secretly teaching you Italian," Lance explains to her abdomen, voice in a low murmur as if he's plotting something. "That's okay, though. I'll teach you Spanish. You can be trilingual."

"You have awfully big plans, mister," Pidge teases, reaching down to mess with his hair. "For someone who just gained dad status thirty seconds ago."

"Oh, let's be honest, I would have been her dad regardless," he says, lifting his head up to grin at her. "Sure, I was expecting to have a few more years to have you just to myself, but this works just fine, too. I've been thinking about it lately."

Pidge turns red and leans back to look at the ceiling. "You really have plans that far ahead?"

"Of course."

She knows, objectively, that they don't have it all figured out. She knows that there's going to be a day down the road where she'll be exhausted and say something that she doesn't mean, or that he'll snap at her for doing something that he considers too risky. The thing about rushing into things like this is that there's so much of the bad stuff that comes up later, once you've already settled into your routine.

Pidge decides that it will be worth it, as long as there are still moments like this.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I’m debating a sequel to this hmmmm
> 
> No mean comments please!


End file.
